Good Lord, I've never been happier to see a post here than yours. It's cleared up a lifelong mysterious memory. I was afraid I'd go to my grave without ever finding out.

Somewhere around 1960, give or take a few years, I was with my parents downtown. I was somewhere around ten years old. I've had this vivid memory of going down the stairs at this very location under the el tracks: as we were going down, there was a woman singer on a stage, who turned towards us and winked. I also recall quite a few people down there.

We never made it all the way down; my parents turned around and left. But that image has been vivid in my mind for a good half-century, and nobody I've ever talked to remembered that place. I'd even gone back to that location, looking for vestiges of the entrance. Nothing but a patch of cement.

You have no idea how much I enjoyed your article as well as this post.